


Alex Squared vs. Like Every type of Pollen in this Quadrant, seriously

by Guzmanasol



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: All of the fun, But definitely space, M/M, Not really star trek or star wars, Sex pollen (but without porn), Space AU, and none of the consent issues, but with feelings!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-07-20 05:33:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16130675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guzmanasol/pseuds/Guzmanasol
Summary: Sasha just wants to know why they can't ever get the normal pollens. Everyone else in the 'Fleet is getting high or screwing like rabbits. But not the District, never the District.





	Alex Squared vs. Like Every type of Pollen in this Quadrant, seriously

**Author's Note:**

  * For [runwithneedles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/runwithneedles/gifts).



Dehydration Pollen

 

“Should I be concerned that you’re already hooked up to an IV at nine in the morning?”

Sanja rolls his eyes but shakes his head no, because for once there is a rational, mission-based explanation for why he’s in MedBay with an IV. “I went with the Pharma team to pick up the plants we got as part of the trade agreement with Epsilon Twelve.”

“Ah,” Sasha sighs, several things rapidly making sense, “so they weren’t kidding about how bad that shit is for human physiology, huh?”

“What gave it away-- the nine of us with severe dehydration from the fucking pastel pollen that was everywhere or the requisition forms coming out of Pharma asking for more lockers that can keep the dumbasses we call Engineering out?”

“So rude, your mother would be ashamed,” Sasha teases, quietly relieved. If Alexander is well enough to shit talk Malkin’s department, then he’s well on his way to a full recovery. Dr. Trivedi is extraordinary but so is Sanja. Much to everyone’s relief, Dr. Trivedi is still undefeated when it comes to saving their Captain from the should-be-deadly shit he attracts. 

“Hah,” Sanja huffs, “my mother is currently renegotiating the trade agreement. Says there’s evidence that some of their leadership knew the severity of issues, but didn’t warn us so we could take protective measures beforehand.”

“She’s going to take them for everything they’re worth,” Sasha marvels. Tatiana is one of the best negotiators in the ‘Fleet, and she gets even more vicious when her children are involved. The ‘Fleet has priority access to certain quadrants just because one of the ambassadors was dumb enough to try and serve Sanja a Crone-berry tart at an official meeting, despite being told of Sanja’s allergies. Any word or name that begins with a T is still making him retract all antenna in fear, last Sasha heard from buddies permanently in that quadrant. Sasha is glad. Few people come close to Sanja’s skill as a captain and no one comes close to his love of life, and anyone who threatens that (intentionally or not) needs to be incapacitated immediately. 

“Yes, yes, I know my mother is your favorite Ovechkin,” Sanja says with a welcoming wave to Katya as she comes in with new fluid bags.

Sasha laughs and laughs and laughs. So brilliant and so dumb, his Sanja.

 

Smell like Offal Pollen

 

“Other than the smell, this is pollen that hasn’t fucked us up,” Sanja says, voice distorted by the protective gear that covers his face. “My new favorite” 

“Are we sure that we need this much of it?,” Andre asks desperately. He’s holding a fifty pound container filled with neon blue sprouts and looking like he’d rather be dead. 

“Yes.” Sasha did the math, he knows how much he needs to make sure that they can continue manufacturing antidotes for when his dumb ass crew once again gets poisoned because they trust shady hospitality far too often. They’ve blown through all of their supplies, and Sasha is stuck having to manufacture his own. He is starting to hate this quadrant. 

“So good to us, keeping us from dying after eating delicious but deadly dumplings,” Sanja sighs in remembered bliss. Sasha contemplates stabbing him. Those dumplings put three of his best crew members in MedBay longterm, and he still has nightmares about how many times he was scrambling to make enough antidote to keep everyone alive long enough for Dr. Trivedi to work her miracles. 

 

Call Your Mother Pollen

 

“Ok, like I get what it does, but why does it do this?,” Tom whines from where he’s sitting, com clutched in his hand and eyes wide as he tries to get through to his mom. 

“Because the reproductive genes on this planet aren’t activated without a maternal blessing of the choice of partner, and also because fuck us, that’s why,” Sasha bitches. His mother is still pissed that he won’t ask out Sanja, because she is old and gray and he’s not always going to have her around to help him plan romantic anniversaries. Sasha is so over this shit. Why can’t they ever get anything good, like sex pollen? Or one that gets them high? Other ships get those all the time, and not just the strains that they did exposure with back at the Academy. 

“Sounds like the year we’ve been having in a nutshell,” Nicky agrees, breathing steady and deep in a way that makes Sasha think of yoga and murder. 

As Sasha’s mother finally answers and he braces himself for the interrogation he’s about to be subject to, he watches Sanja on the command deck. If Sasha hadn’t seen him put on the ceremonial wreath himself, he’d almost believe that Sanja hadn’t been doused with the pollen. 

Then again, Sanja is the only person who regularly calls his mother. Sasha has the idle thought that if he ever gets it together enough to make a move, he is also going to have to make regular calls to Tatiana. And his own mother, but his mother will be much more forgiving than Tatiana if he misses a scheduled call because someone fucked up the Pharma labs again. 

 

….did my dick just sprout? Pollen

 

This is going to go down in ‘Fleet history, Sasha knows. If he is very lucky and if students do not get smarter, he will be Anonymous Subject 1 in the reports and no one will think to look at the publically available mission outlines that would make it obvious that it was the District’s crew that had one of the most egregious translation issues in the history of Quadrant 18-PA. Seriously, all Psych wanted were flower seeds, to create “a more welcoming, comforting atmosphere that will encourage crew members to be at ease with us.” Fucking Psych. They could deal with institutional chrome and greys like the rest of the ship, because chrome and grey never did this to the crew. 

In the meantime, half of his crew that has a dick-- including himself-- currently has a Chia Pet dick. There goes his hopes of actually getting laid tonight. 

“I hate my life,” he groans into the report from Pharma. Dr. Trivedi insists that a dick that is currently sprouting clover-esque plants is no reason to let the District fall behind on paperwork. 

“Personally, it’s growing on me,” Sanja jokes. Sasha doesn’t look up, because seeing his new boyfriend’s dick should be fun, not traumatizing, and Tom and Andre both insist that Sanja has actual flowers sprouting from his dick (he does not want to think about how they know this). Sasha has never fantasized about deep throating a goddamn tulip, and he does not need that image in his head. 

 

Hey, Sex Pollen! Wait, this is one we've built a tolerance for already.

 

The sex pollen doesn’t even work on them, Sasha wants to whine to the universe. Oh, it makes them all a little flushed, but none of the actual symptoms that you’re supposed to get upon getting dropped in a field of Fecunda flower. For once, the ‘Fleet actually managed to give them controlled exposure to a pollen they’re encountering out in space and Sasha wants to murder them. 

“I am so over this bullshit,” Sasha tells Sanja as they go through the decontamination protocol. At this point in their mission, the District can thoroughly decontaminate anything in under five minutes, under three if it’s just their bodies and suits. For whatever reason, that stat doesn’t impress the Don Cherry types on the ‘Fleet board of governors. 

“Did you want to have to take time out of the lab for this?,” Sanja asks, genuinely curious. Sasha has the best boyfriend, because instead of going on about the potential health impacts, he sounds like it’s a thing he might be into (Sanja sounds that way about a surprising number of things, and he’ll just shrug and go “I’ve wanted to try it” like he hasn’t just short-circuited Sasha’s brain). 

“Yes! This is the first pollen that hasn’t been shit, and I wanted to enjoy it. If I have to hear one more report about Lyosha having the best sex of his life because his dumbass crew landed in a new type of Fecunda again, I’m going to commit murder.”

“Just ask Willy, he picked up a new strain from a shop like two planets ago,” Sanja tells him as they toss the things that can’t be salvaged into an incinerator. “Said he bought too much for them, and it doesn’t have a long enough shelf life to last until we next return to HQ.” 

“They sell sex pollen?,” Sasha asks, still dumbfounded. “Since when? Where? Why?”

“Where do you think they got the pollen for us to do tolerance building with? They can’t grow half of those varieties on Earth.” 

He hates everything. He hates the 'Fleet, he hates Lyosha, he hates Wilso, and he hates himself. Because yes, he had learned about the hospitable environments for the plants that produce those sorts of pollens, and he is literally on the District to help trade for medically useful plants from other planets. If they've got trade set up for medical purposes, recreational trade is only a heartbeat behind. He knows this, has sat through too many lectures about trade treaties and meetings with other Pharma department heads about the dumb shit their crews pull, he should've known that of fucking course someone is selling sex pollens for recreational use.

“I hate everything.”

“Hate everything while I go get the pollen and more lube-- no one is going to expect us to do anything for the next day or so while Nicky fixes the mess Andre made landing us in that field.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sex Pollen and Silliness. As one does.
> 
> As tagged, this is nebulously in space. Trying to pick through enough Star Trek or Star Wars worldbuilding info proved... daunting and distracting, so I threw it out the window and just wrote fun stuff. Also as one does.


End file.
